Murals Over Morals

I looked over at him, watching him covering up the trunks of the trees he had started on. "Sorry, just my mom didn't really talk to me about the mural before she told you what to paint." I told him quietly. "But I don't want bright and colorful trees, my mom is a little impulsive." I laid down on my bed, on my belly and watched him.

He looked over his shoulder at me, "I know how that is, mothers, that is." He chuckled and nodded as he turned back to the wall, and his paint.

"I want something dark." I told him, watching him. "Something that ties along with insomnia. You know, something that says something about me. I mean it's my wall, for the next two years." I whispered and played with the covers on my bed slowly, and watched his back. His dark hair was messy in the back, and he seemed a little tense. His coffee sat by his feet, still steaming.

"Like I said," He whispered. "We have all the time you need to think on it." Gerard was finally done covering up the trunks, and he stood up and grabbed his coffee, and came and sat down next to me on the bed.

I stared at the now blank white wall, and let my head fall in my chin. I honestly had no clue. I got up and walked over to it. "What about like red fog, coming in from this corner and spreading out over the wall..." I said, as a start, thinking about what could be in the fog.

Gerard got up and walked up behind me, "Red fog, got it." He breathed, standing right up behind me, his front almost touching my back. I swallowed, and looked at the wall.

I walked to the other side of the wall, "Actually, what about some black, dying trees all through the fog? With black crows flying through the creepy branches?" I said and looked up at Gerard.

He smiled. "I like the way you think." He smiled.

"There still needs to be a focal point." I frowned and looked at the blank wall, imagining the mural already painted on there. "In the center, maybe a pair of dulled blue eyes, with black bags under them, like kind of faded a bit, and the nose and lips, too...." I was thinking, "And black hair, that leads into the tree limbs. Like the strands of her hair flow into the tips of the tree limbs." I looked back at him.

"I'm liking your idea." He smiled and grabbed his paint brush and dipped it in red, "You're not gonna change your mind again are you?" He chuckled.

"No, I like this idea." I smiled wide, my eyes tired and feeling heavy, but I knew they wouldn't shut. He gave me a sad smile and turned to the wall and I bit down on my lip, and looked at me feet, feeling a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I turned back to the bed and laid down to watch him paint, feeling calmly at ease...